As a gardener, she knew something about the way plants grew. From the way the wisteria was draping over the house, it grew from the side. Most people planted wisteria by a door, where it could drape over a porch roof. If that was the case, then there was a door on the east side of the building—and there would be a thick trunk to the vine. Eden could hide there and, in secret, see who came out of the building. She could even follow him, or if he got in a car, she could get a license number.
Hurrying, in case she missed him, Eden made her way around to the side of the building, then slipped through the darkness toward where she thought the trunk to the huge vine might be. It was easy to find, and she thought that if she clung to it and stayed very still, she would look like part of the gnarled, twisted trunk. If he aimed a light directly on her, she’d never fool him, but she doubted that he’d do that. If she had any luck at all, he’d walk right past her.
In the distance she heard a car start, heard it crunch on the rocky surf
ace of the drive. Had Brad returned and driven away? Without her? No, she had an idea that he was the type of man who’d never leave a “lady” to fend for herself.
So who was in the car? she wondered. Who was driving away? After a few moments, the sound of the car faded, and all was again silent, but, still, there were no sounds from inside the house. The animals didn’t start making their noises; they knew that a human was there.
Eden stayed very still, willing her heart to slow down and stop making so much noise. After what seemed like an hour, she heard a sound from inside the house. Within seconds she heard footsteps. Someone was walking inside the house.
She waited, staying utterly still. She heard the noise of the paper of the bag she’d put the necklace in. Was he opening it? Or did he trust her? She saw no light, so maybe he was just feeling it rather than looking at it. She held her breath when the footsteps came toward her. Yes, he was going to use the side door. He was coming toward her!
When he got to the door, she saw the silhouette of a tall man. In his hand was the bag, but she couldn’t see his face. She watched in silence as he walked within two feet of her and headed toward the back of the house.
When he was about fifty feet away, she moved from her hiding place and started to follow him. She stepped on a twig, and the man started to turn around. Eden drew in her breath. He was going to see her!
Before the man could turn his head, a hand clasped over her mouth and she was pulled back into a thicket of pyracantha—the barbed wire of the plant world. At least twenty thorns sank into her flesh, but she couldn’t move to get away from them for fear of making noise.
The hand was still over her mouth, the thorns were sticking into her, and she was jammed up to a body that she’d come to know well. Through the bushes she could see the silhouette of the man with the bag in his hand. He was looking back toward them and listening, but he saw nothing, heard nothing.
There were tears in Eden’s eyes from the pain of the thorns. When the man with the bag turned away and started walking again, she shook her head to get McBride’s hand off her mouth. Frowning, she looked at him. She wanted to bawl him out for lying, sneaking, and tricking her, but he had on his FBI face, with no hint that there was anything personal between them. Besides, she was glad to see him. If he hadn’t shown up, she would have been seen by the man.
Jared was dressed all in black, and his face had been darkened, so she could hardly see him in the shadow of the bush. Silently, he motioned for her to move back into the open, and she readily obeyed. Once she was free of the bushes, she started twisting about to remove the thorns from her skin.
Stepping ahead of her, Jared looked toward where the man had gone. She could see nothing. Turning back to her, he motioned for her to go back toward Brad’s car. It was only when he turned that she saw that he had night-vision goggles on his head, and that there was a large pistol in his hand. Around his waist was a belt that held more weapons.
Eden obeyed him. Silently, she turned toward the driveway and headed toward the car Brad had borrowed. But the second she was out of sight of Jared, she turned back. For one thing, she didn’t think it was safe for her to be near a car, and for another, Jared’s presence made her believe that Melissa was somewhere nearby.
“Eden!” She heard an urgent whisper that she knew was Brad’s.
Putting out her hands, she went forward. He caught her hand in his and pulled her down to the ground beside him.
“Where have you been?” he asked, worry in his voice.
“I went back to the car and you weren’t here, so I—”
“I think I know where Melissa might be.”
“Take me there,” she said. “Now.”
“Remi is here, so don’t get frightened if you see someone.”
“Remi? The son-in-law you don’t trust?” She looked at him. “Was he hiding under the porch of the house?”
“Yeah,” Brad said, and she could see his smile in the darkness. “Clever, aren’t you?”
She started to say that she’d discovered him by clumsiness, not clever deduction, but didn’t. Brad took her hand and turned to his left, away from the house, and away from the car.
“Icehouse,” he said over his shoulder, but then said no more. They unclasped hands, but she could follow him easily. He walked slowly, always waiting for her to catch up. They used no light, and they were as silent as possible.
An icehouse, Eden thought, and knew that it was a good choice for a hiding place. Icehouses were nearly always underground, so no lights would show on the outside. And no screams could be heard, Eden involuntarily thought, then shivered.
As she watched Brad moving through the woods, she thought maybe she should tell him that McBride was there, and that the woods were probably full of FBI agents, but Eden said nothing. She was at the point where she wasn’t sure of anything or anyone.
It took nearly twenty minutes to find the old icehouse, and Eden knew that Brad had to have done a lot of research to know where it was. Or had he played there as a child?
There was an artificially created hill, and on the north side was a heavy oak door. Brad ran his hands down it, feeling for the lock. There was none.